


The Price of Blood

by Imlaxdris1771



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, shadowhunters au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 23:54:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24984148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imlaxdris1771/pseuds/Imlaxdris1771
Summary: Murders in the Downworld are on the rise and the Clave refuses to believe a Shadowhunter could be responsible. It's up to half-blood Shadowhunter Killian to try and solve the murders with the help of High Warlock Emma Swan, but rising tensions between the Shadowhunters and the Downworlders threaten the fragile peace between the two.
Relationships: Captain Hook | Killian Jones/Emma Swan
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14
Collections: Captain Swan Supernatural Summer 2020





	The Price of Blood

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so excited to share this story as part of CSSNS this year and thank you so much to ultraluckycatnd for being my beta!

Killian storms down the steps of the Institute in a fury. Once again, Aldertree has benched him and he was taken off the murder of the Werewolf girl, citing that he was too close to the case and was needed to help train the younger kids. 

Too close his arse; the only reason they pulled him off was because he pointed out that the scene showed no sign of it being a Werewolf-on-Werewolf attack, but rather that it seemed more like the work of a rogue Shadowhunter. Aldertree had taken great pleasure in reminding him that just because his old fling was killed by a rogue Shadowhunter didn’t mean that every dead Werewolf girl was killed like that. Liam had had to hold him back from decking Aldertree across his smug face for that comment.

If Aldertree won’t actually investigate the poor girl’s murder, he will. But that means asking questions in such a way that he doesn’t rile up the Downworlders so the news makes it back to Aldertree. With the recent surge of Downworlder deaths, however, asking questions without stepping on toes is going to be difficult. 

_ Although _ , Killian thinks,  _ the best way to get information is to spend time among the Downworlders and try and overhear something _ . With that thought in mind, Killian heads to  _ Swan’s Spirits _ , hoping to multi-task and get his mind off the images of Milah’s body flashing through his mind while finding out who exactly murdered the young Werewolf. 

Stepping into the bar, Killian feels some of the tension leave his body. Despite being raised a Shadowhunter, he often felt more at home amongst his mother’s people. And  _ Swan’s Spirits _ was known for being a bit more friendly to all members of the Shadow World, unlike the Vampire bar  _ Plasma _ or the Werewolf restaurant  _ Bisclavret _ . Killian slips onto one of the stools near the bar and waits for the blonde Faerie, Ashla, working behind the bar to come take his order. When Ashla notices him, her eyes widen and she darts over to take his order.

“What are you doing here, Jones?” she hisses at him. Killian raises an eyebrow at her tone. While certainly not the best of friends, he has worked with Ashla enough for her animosity to be surprising. She must see this in his face because she sighs. “The wolves are fired up tonight and some of them are out for blood. It’s obvious to anyone with eyes that that poor girl was the victim of a rogue and the Shadowhunters brushing it off as Downworld-on-Downworld violence has brought out the worst.” Killian grits his teeth in anger, jerking his head in a short nod.

“Aye, I know. That’s why I’m here. Aldertree benched me from the case by pointing that very fact out. I’m here to see if I can find out who the actual murderer was.” Ashla softens a bit more, nodding in appreciation.

“Well, I know that she was a member of the Misthaven pack, and that whoever killed her has to be particularly devious.” That roused Killian’s interest. He had already figured that the poor child had been a member of the Misthaven pack, but that last tidbit sounds interesting.

“Oh? How do you figure that?” Ashla glances around the bar for a second before leaning forward.

“Snow has been cracking down  _ hard _ on her pack, instigating a curfew and a rule that no one travels alone. And the pups are always supposed to have at least two adult pack members watching them. So, whoever this was had to somehow lure her away from the protection of the pack.” Killian frowns at this information. What on earth would convince a 13-year-old girl that it was safe to leave the safety of the pack when it’s clear that the Alpha had explained the danger? Werewolves didn’t disobey the Alpha for any old reason. Before he can question Ashla further, however, a strong hand clamps down on his shoulder. 

“And what do we have here? An angel all by his lonesome? Just come back from murdering more little girls?” A low voice laced with the strong smell of liquor growls in his ear. Killian closes his eyes.  _ Shit _ . This was going to get ugly fast. Ashla opened her mouth, maybe to defend him, maybe to institute the bar policy that everyone was welcome, no matter what species, but the voice continues before she could interject. “We don’t need your kind here, especially not half-blood Fairies that can’t figure out whether they like boys or girls. I know all about your reputation, Jones. You’ll go after anything with two legs. That extend to little girls now, too? Get your rocks off on killing them? Huh?” Killian snarls in anger, whirling around to shove the wolf off of him.

“Go chase your own tail, why don’t you? I’m no murderer. And find a better damn insult than half-blood, you mangy mutt.” Killian barely finishes his sentence before a meaty paw is flying at his face. He barely managed to duck the fist, but before he could recover, the wolf’s left hook catches him square across the jaw. 

Plain explodes in Killian’s face and he has to grit his teeth and blink the stars from his eyes, already dropping down to get out of the way of more fists. Backing away from the wolf, Killian sees two other Werewolves backing the ringleader, all three looking very eager to spill his blood. Killian reaches for his stele, but before he can snag it to activate his runes, the angry ringleader leaps the distance between the two of them, shedding his human skin along the way and landing an agonizing slash across Killian’s abdomen. Killian punched the wolf in the nose, throwing him off, but before he could stand back up, the two other wolves have closed the distance and decide that stomping their heavy boots down on his face and ribs would be an effective method of keeping him down. Killian finally manages to grab one of their boots and uses it to upend the wolf, sending him sprawling into the other one, knocking them both back.

Killian groaned as he got to his feet, reaching again for his stele, hoping to activate his  _ iratze _ rune so that he could at least begin to heal, when he hears that low growl again.  _ By the Angel, could he not get a break tonight?! _ Killian turns carefully, keeping one eye on the two downed wolves and the other on the gray wolf that was clearly ready to pounce and rend him limb from limb. But just as the wolf leaps, he froze in midair.

Killian’s eyes dart around, trying to find the Warlock that had just wonderfully aided him from being ripped apart. His eyes widen when they settled on the woman emerging from the crowd, one hand held up to hold the wolf in place. She is gorgeous with shining, golden hair and ridiculously green eyes. She’s clearly dressed for the comfortable atmosphere of the club in a simple white sweater and jeans, but the clothes didn’t hide the white, almost tiger-like stripes that marked her as a demon-blooded Warlock. 

“Are you quite done, Leroy?” she asks the gray wolf shortly. Killian is shocked when the wolf actually looked abashed, as did the other two who had accompanied the ringleader. The woman lowers the wolf to the ground, releasing the spell. “I don’t stand for people causing trouble in my bar, is that understood Leroy? I think you, Walter, and Tom should head back to your pack and sober up.” The woman’s voice makes it clear it was not a suggestion. Tom, one of the unshifted Werewolves opens his mouth, outrage clear, but snaps it shut when the Warlock sends an unamused glare his way. 

Leroy snarls lowly at Killian before turning around to leave the bar, with one of the wolves muttering a last parting shot. “Good luck, half-blood. She’s going to rip you apart worse than us.” Killian shifts, feeling slightly uneasy before turning his eyes back to the woman who apparently owned the bar. He opens his mouth to thank her for helping him, but closes it just as quickly when she sends that same unamused glare his way. 

“Come with me.” It was very clearly an order, so Killian nods and limps his way after her, feeling with sudden alacrity every bruise, broken rib, and cut that adorned his body, his stomach hurting the worst where the wolf had slashed him. Once they were ensconced in the woman’s office, Killian faces her once again, intent on thanking her and apologizing for causing trouble.

“I’m sorry for disrupting your bar, but thank you for your help.” The woman snorts at him, narrowing her eyes.

“I did not do it for you, little nephilim. I did it because your kind are already murdering us; we don’t need a reason for a sanctioned hit.” Killian opens his mouth to protest, not doubting that Aldertree would take any reason to bring the Accords down on the Downworlders, but that he would rat them out, but the woman cuts him off first. “You made a very unwise decision to come here tonight, especially considering what happened last night.” Killian jumps on that opening.

“That’s why I’m here. The girl, she was killed by a rogue, but Aldertree kicked me off the case to declare it a case of Werewolf-on-Werewolf crime. But I want to find the real murderer.” The woman narrows her green gaze further.  _ Surely that color can’t be natural, another mark perhaps? _ Killian shakes his head, trying to dislodge the distracting thoughts.

“Why would you care about whether or not the true murderer is found? What could you possibly hope to gain by going against your precious Clave to discover a “rogue” Shadowhunter who’s doing the work your Clave wants done anyway?” The bitterness and rage in the woman’s voice is clear, clouding her eyes, and darkening her expression. Killian swallows and grits his teeth, flinching when it makes the wounds on his face flare with pain. 

“I am well aware of how unseriously members of the Clave take events like this, but the Law is the Law and Downworlders are protected by the Accords. Whether or not the Clave is willing to turn a blind eye,  _ I  _ am not. Innocents, children or otherwise, being murdered is supposed to be fully investigated, not written off. I refuse to stand by and neglect my duty.” Killian catches a slight flare of surprise, followed by admiration in the woman’s eyes before it is covered up again. Her Warlock stripes pulse slightly. 

“It’s not just that, is it? You have a personal stock in this.” Killian sighs at the accusation in the woman’s tone. But, for all his frustration with constantly having his motives questioned, she has several centuries worth of reasons not to trust him.

“My mother is Alycia, a handmaiden to the Faerie Queen. I am well aware of the prejudice that the Clave holds against Downworlders, and the way it treats half-bloods like myself. And-” Here, Killian hesitates. It would be easy to present this woman with the same reason he gives everyone—he’s a half-blood and the Clave only tolerates him and Liam because their father is a member of one of the old-blood Shadowhunter families. But the respect he had seen in the woman’s gaze, her willingness to help him against other Downworlders—he wants to tell her. Tell her about Milah, and seeing her body ravaged, tortured, broken by a rogue Shadowhunter—a Shadowhunter that the Clave never caught because they didn’t try, because Milah was just a Werewolf. 

Killian closes his eyes against the rush of memories, struggling to keep his breathing and rage under control. Once he feels moderately under control, Killian opens his eyes again, not entirely unsurprised to find something like concern in the Warlock’s gaze. “And because a rogue Shadowhunter murdered the woman I loved and the Clave did  _ nothing _ to bring her murderer to justice. I won’t let another case be swept under the rug. I  _ can’t _ .” Killian knows that the woman can likely see the fury and the anguish that he can’t hide when he speaks about Milah.

“Emma Swan. My name is Emma Swan. I am the High Warlock here. You want justice for the Downworlders being murdered? So do I. But you can do something about it without starting a war. So I’m going to make a deal with you, Shadowhunter. You help me find out who is murdering Downworlders in  _ my _ city and I’ll keep the other Downworlders off your back.” Killian starts slightly at the woman’s words. She—She’d really be willing to help him? And she isn’t just any Warlock, but the High Warlock. She could get him information that he could never dream of having access to.

“Aye, you’ve got yourself a deal, love. My name is Killian Jones, since we seem to be exchanging names. Although I was rather fond of calling you  _ enchanting Warlock _ in my head. But, Emma, it suits you.” For the first time, Killian sees something like a smile at the corner of the woman’s lovely mouth as she rolls her eyes at him.

“Alright, loverboy. I’ll get you an audience with Snow and David to see what they know. If you went to them by yourself, they’d never speak with you. But I can get you in.” Killian nods, having already figured that out when they went to ask the Alpha and her mate questions in the first place. 

“With your permission, I’d like to speak to Ashla about keeping an ear open at the bar for any other information that might be useful.” 

“I thought you looked friendly earlier. Friend of yours? Or an ex-lover? Leroy was right about one thing, you do have quite the reputation.”

“Jealous, love? But no, Ashla is a friend through my mother and another Faerie scout. She has her eye on a human, I believe his name is Sean? But us Fae, we have to stick together, you know.” Emma snorts. 

“Get out of here, Shadowhunter. I’ve got a bar to run and after that display, I doubt anyone will talk to you tonight.” Killian nods and turns to leave, but a wrong step sends him to his knees in pain. “Are you alright?” Killian grits his teeth and nods.

“I’m alright, I rather think they knocked the handsome out of me, though.” Suddenly, the pain is chased away by a feeling of warmth and Killian opens his eyes to see Emma kneeling beside him, hands out, white light encasing his body as Emma heals him with her magic. Killian stares at her face, entranced by her eyes and the intense focus there, watching as the stripes on her face seem to shine and pulse with her magic. He barely notices as she finishes healing the wounds inflicted by the Werewolves. Her eyes shift from his body to his face.

“I don’t think anyone’s powerful enough to do that.” Killian blinks before coughing, trying to hide the fact that the tips of his pointed ears are turning red. He can flirt with anyone for hours without getting even the slightest bit flushed, but one compliment from this stunning woman and he’s speechless.

“Right. Well, I should be on my way, I wouldn't want to keep my patrons waiting. Take care of yourself, half-blood.” As she leaves, Killian manages a smile because coming from her, half-blood sounded rather like an endearment instead of a curse.


End file.
